We do not think much of a man who never contradicts us: that is no sign he loves us, but rather that he loves himself. Do not be deceived by flattery... it should disturb us if our affairs please every one, for that is a sign that they are of little worth. Perfection is for the few.
Baltasar Gracián, 1647 (tr. Joseph Jacobs, 1892)
Universal approval is not the triumph it feels like; it is often a warning. Work that pleases absolutely everyone tends to be work that risked nothing and reached no real height, because anything genuinely excellent or original will be beyond some people and will therefore displease them. So being censured by certain people, especially those whom good judges think poorly of, can be a mark in your favour rather than against you. The related trap is flattery: the person who never contradicts you is not showing love but self-interest, protecting their own position by telling you what you want to hear. Real regard includes disagreement. Be disturbed, not delighted, when everyone approves, and value the honest contradiction over the smooth consent, because perfection is for the few and the few will always leave someone unpleased.
Practice
- Treat universal approval as a warning, not a triumph; work that pleases everyone usually risked nothing and reached no real height.
- Value the honest contradictor over the constant agreer; the one who never disagrees is protecting himself, not showing regard.
- Read certain censure as a compliment; to be criticised by those whom good judges think little of is often a mark in your favour.
Use this when
- Use this to check your own work; if it pleases every single person, ask what it failed to risk.
- Use it to weigh feedback; the disagreement of a good judge is worth more than the applause of everyone else (maxim 84 mines the critic).
Ignore this when
- Don't turn this into courting disapproval for its own sake; the point is that excellence displeases some, not that displeasing people is excellence (maxim 143 warns against paradox for effect).
- Don't dismiss all praise as flattery; some approval is earned and real, and the caution is against the universal kind, not the genuine.
A picture of it
Briefly thrilled that her new piece has pleased absolutely everyone who read it, a writer is stopped by an editor she trusts, who frames it as a problem: work that offends no one has usually dared nothing. Sure enough, the piece is smooth, competent, and forgettable, sanded down to a surface that could catch on nothing. Her next piece takes a real position, and it draws sharp disagreement from exactly the people whose judgment she least respects, and genuine admiration from those she most does. The universal approval had been the warning. The pointed, mixed response to the braver work was the sign it had finally reached for something.
When everyone approves, suspect the work risked nothing. Perfection is for the few, and the honest contradiction is worth more than the easy applause.